


Missing piece

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Apologies, Hugs, Nightmares, Reconciliation, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Geralt has a dream in which Jaskier is dead.The notion that it could be true hurts, and makes him make things right.Pointless Geralt angst.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 266





	Missing piece

You don't realise what you have until you lose it, Geralt thinks, looking at... No, not him. It can't be him. 

"He was one of the first ones to perish from the illness, thin and small as he was."

Geralt is looking at the body and cannot believe what his eyes are seeing. Why is Jaskier so silent? He's never this quiet. The silence hurts, the silence is screaming in his head. Why is Jaskier this silent. 

"He seemed quite broken-hearted too, I think he felt he didn't have much to live for any more, so he didn't fight too hard. Pity, though. Had a very beautiful voice, that lad."

The body doesn't look like Jaskier, but it is him. Him, too pale verging on blueish, him so still, so incredibly diminished. This cannot be his friend, Jaskier had always been so cheerful, so chatty, a force of nature, full of... full of life. Without that life he's barely recognizable, he looks so different. But it is him.

That's his face, the mouth with which he sang all those songs, the mop of brown hair over his brow, those familiar blue eyes closed, closed tightly, closed for eternity, will never open again. It is wrong. Very wrong. 

"He was so alone, those last days. I think he could have used some company."

Geralt sits by the cot, and takes Jaskier's hand and it's too cold and too limp and way too wrong. There's nothing left of Jaskier in that body, Geralt understands. There's nothing left of Jaskier in the world, just a couple of songs that nobody will ever sing as well as he could.

He's gone.

And the last thing he ever said to him...

"Jaskier, I..."

But Jaskier cannot hear his apologies, his words, his sorrys, his tearful admissions of how much he'd missed him, how much he'd fucked up.

There are no more people in that big room filled with bodies. Just Jaskier, in front of him, dead. Only his body, none of the real him there.

There wod be no more songs, no more jokes, no more chatter. No more blue eyed smiles, no more playful pats in the back, no more Jaskier, because he's gone, he's gone and he will never be back.

Geralt feels that part of him is gone too. Geralt feels he lost a piece of himself and will never get back. Never be really happy, never be whole. Because he's gone. Because he's dead. 

He died alone and brokenhearted, he died thinking that Geralt thought him a burden he died sad, and alone and he it was not fair. Jaskier had cared about him, sought him out and wanted his opinion, even after being insulted and pushed away. Jaskier had wanted some time at the beach. 

Instead, he got to die in an inn, with dozens of other people. Without a hand to hold.

Jaskier is gone, he has lost him forever, and the world is dark and cruel and cold.

"Jaskier..."

The cold hand slips from his.

A guttural raw cry scrapes his throat, but it doesn't change anything.

*

He woke up drenched in sweat and knew that he had to do something, needed to find Jaskier. He had dreamed in the past of things that then happened, or that had just passed. Maybe it was something that came with being a Witcher, maybe it was just him, having too much intuition.

But the fact was that the continent was being ravaged by all sorts of illnesses latwly, and while he was immune to practically every human ailment (and he had no concerns for Yennefer, probably illnesses feared her) Jaskier was just a regular human, who often was in crowded places like taverns, or markets, palaces - places with more people increased the risk of contagion. And Geralt couldn't have that, now, could he?

In the dream, he had realised all the had lost, the terrible impact of losing the bard. For so long he had denied Jaskier even being his friend, when in truth, he had been more than a friend. A companion, a partner, a helper, a carer, but yes, also, a friend. Jaskier may have been trouble, but he was also a good person, who hadn't been treated like he deserved by him or the world in general. But specially him.

He wasn't an easy man to track down, because he kept going from one town to another, often without having told anyone where he was going. And Geralt was getting more anxious each day, he heard about people getting and how they were killed and killed and killed, and couldn't help remembering that cold hand on his, the words of that man, "he died alone", the pain, the pain, the heart wrenching pain in his heart.

In that moment, Geralt wished that what they said about witchers was true, and they didn't have emotions because this sucked. The dread, the fear, the sorrow. We only have one life and humans' lives were significantly short. And he had made Jaskier's time on this Earth more miserable. He had hurt the bard, had hurt himself and had been stupid. 

His dread only increased when he found out that Jaskier had been seen last in a town riddled by some fevers. He got all sorts of potions and remedies while he went there, fearing the worst. Cursing himself for not looking after such a wonderful thing, such a wonderful person. Fuck.

If Jaskier was dead, and the last thing he heard from him was how much he hated him, if Jaskier had died alone, if.... He wasn't cold, but Geralt was shivering. Even Roach could feel his distress and galloped quicker.

Jaskier.... was not dead. He wasn't looking too good, either. But he was alive. Geralt found him in a tavern, standing with his back against the wall, looking unhappily at the ale in front of him, seemingly unaware of the rest of the world, looking rather glum and thinner than when he'd seen him last... But there he was. Alive. And whole.

Geralt didn't think, he was just so relieved, so happy, so glad to see his friend again that he enveloped him in a tight embrace, burying himself in Jaskier's smell, his heartbeat, his breathing. Geralt buried himself there, making Jaskier dropped his ale, surpried. 

"Ge... Geralt?"

The bard had been hesitant, almost scared at first, but then returned the hug. For so many days and nights he had longed for Geralt to hold him like this... Geralt buried his hand deeper in Jaskier's back, wanting to make him be shielded and protected, safe from all illnesses, safe from all horrors.

"I was afraid you'd been taken by those fevers." Geralt admitted, still not letting go. Afraid I'd lost you."

"...I thought you couldn't wait to be rid of me. I thought losing me was what you wanted."

"NO."

Geralt broke the embrace, to look at his friend in the eye.

"It was wrong of me to make you think that. I was cruel, and ungrateful and didn't realize what a treasure I was pushing away. I.... I don't usually like to... air my feelings like this, but Jaskier, I... I love, and I'm sorry I hurt you, and I want to keep you safe."

Jaskier couldn't believe this.

" Suddenly you are able to say these things, suddenly you see all of this? What happened? Are you a doppler or something like that?"

Geralt shook his head.

" I... I saw you dead in a dream. Killed by the fevers. It hurt more than words can say. And ever since, I've been dreading finding you like that, and ever since I've understood how much you brought into my life that I would miss."

Jaskier was tired, lonely and near certain that he too had caught the illness, even it was only beginning. But well, if he had to die, better with company. (and Geralt would not let him die. Geralt fed him all sorts of cures and potions to make him not just healthy, but extra healthy). He looked at those golden eyes, who were relieved, happy, but also imploring.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me, not yet, but can I... Can I just grace a ride along this humble bard?"

Jaskier smiled.

"Only if you embrace me again."

Geralt did, gladly.

Glad to have his missing piece back. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Might get deleted later. Very pointless, this. 
> 
> Anyways if you liked, please leave a comment saying so! Thanks!


End file.
